


Ipseity

by That_Familiar_Feeling



Series: Kuro Week 2k17 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Death, I may need help tagging this one?, Kuro Week 2017, Magical Violence, Out of Mind, bodies, out of body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 10:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11251422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Familiar_Feeling/pseuds/That_Familiar_Feeling
Summary: Ipseity/ipse + -ity/noun:selfhood; individual identityWritten for Kuro week!This is Day Two:Identity/ Memory"He woke up. That’s the only way he can describe it." And someone was there waiting for him...





	Ipseity

Kuro’s first memories were very cold and very lonely. 

He woke up. That’s the only way he can describe it.

Waking up all at once, from a dream he couldn’t remember.

 

It was metallic, medical tang and chemicals. It smelt like unnatural things and made him squirm. 

He was cold, so so cold. His teeth were clicking together so rapidly that one strong spasms and he bit into his lip hard enough for blood to burst out. 

He couldn’t move either, couldn’t rub at his arms...couldn’t feel his legs.

He felt so confused and lost. 

He knew how he was feeling, but he couldn’t describe it. He didn’t understand how to speak or move. He couldn’t even think straight, it was all simple words and phrases.

 

And then the hissing started and the world started shaking. He started shaking, knees weak and looking around wildly. He started hyperventilating, hands reach up to grasp at nothing as the door slid open and he fell forward. 

He yelped, voice rough and unused. He was caught roughly, kept from falling to the floor but not by tender hands. He was still panting, wheezing around the air that was too sharp and made his eyes sting. 

 

The first time Kuro woke up- he was dragged to his feet by too tight hands and forced to face demons.

They had curving masks, cloaked in shadowy garments and surrounding him. He tried to pull away, but they held him back. 

He tried to speak, tried to ask what was happening. But they watched him in silence as he’s knee threatened to buckle beneath his weight. But it felt like they were getting closer…

And then all at once thoughts came to him. A flurry of desperate thoughts that didn’t connect at all the points. The bodies crowded closer and the  thoughts grew more rapid.

 

And then, the very first thought that clearly came across. Screaming at him from all sides as hands reached out to him…

 

_ “Scream. Scream and fight them off. And don’t stop fighting- lash out and cut them down. Don’t let them take you too.” _

 

He jolted, eyes wide and mind swimming. But the voice was so clear, so fierce and desperate that it kicked him into autopilot.

He swung out with a fist. Pulling himself away from the two holding them. The room burst into noise, guttural language he didn’t understand and shouting.

Someone tried to grab him again, and he swung around to face them. They were trying to drag him and he swung with his fists, clawing at a face he couldn’t see clearly.

 

The next time they jerked him back and the pair went sprawling. He fought like a wild animal, screaming until he was hoarse and lashing out as quickly as he could. 

He managed to get up, but everything still tilted and whirled around him. He was unsteady on his feet and instinctively grasped for hand holds.

He doesn’t know when the first one came back. Doesn’t know for sure how he was grabbed or what was happening to him.

He remembers reeling, remembers slamming his palm into his assailant's throat and hearing the crunch of bone.

 

He remembers watching the body slump forward. Wide pupiless eyes staring back at him and a mouth gawping at him. 

 

And then everything went hot. From his head to his toes everything was on fire.

His muscles spasmed, he started to cry out but it was cut short by a more feral scream.

He hit the ground hard, legs buckled and knees colliding with the hard floor at full force. 

 

As quickly as the fire came over him and sent his body into chaos, it went away.

 

He was trembling- eyes darting around wildly because  _ he couldn’t move now. He couldn’t move and the voices were back and.. _

He felt the hands grasp his face before he really saw them.

Cold and clawed, they held either side of his jaw the same way a predator holds a prey’s skull in the wild. With all the delicacy and tenderness permitted to a beast that could snap his skull into pieces.

He was forced to look up and meet searing yellow sclera. A face hidden by the shadows of a hood but framed by long white hair. A dark aureole permeated from the cloaked figure, and it made his blood turn to ice.

 

“Enough.” The voice was sharper than the others, and it translated enough for him to understand it.

“That is enough. You are not to fight here...not yet.”

She pressed her claws into his scalp and a burn started to creep past the skin. He felt her words carving paths along his nerves and he whined, clawing at her arms fruitlessly.

 

He remembers the bright light that consumed his vision. It was magenta and reeked of sulphur.

He remembers her voice before he remembers nothing else.

“You are not meant to live Kuro...only survive.”

**Author's Note:**

> Day Two: Memory and Identity. I really wanted to play around more with this particular idea.
> 
> I wanted to go only slightly into the relationship between Haggar and Kuro. But I had a tough time trying to write it out.


End file.
